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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27438628">Swimming is a life skill</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiramasu/pseuds/Tiramasu'>Tiramasu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon Compliant, Drowning, Everything's Platonic, Hurt, Hurt but no comfort, Insane Wilbur Soot, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Mutation, Not Beta Read, Rivals, Schlatt Angst, Villain Wilbur Soot, War, Wilbur misses his friend, bless tommy for being good, floods, no beta we die like men, playing fast and loose with the canon narrative, schlatt and wilbur used to be friends, schlatt cant swim, they're not though, water phobia, wilbur's just being a baby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:54:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,189</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27438628</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiramasu/pseuds/Tiramasu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the person to bring Wilbur out of his paranoia and madness wasn't Tommy, Fundy or Niki but the tyrant Schlatt, himself?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>297</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Swimming is a life skill</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26889343">never invite me over again- just kidding, please do, i really wanna hang out with you</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/summer_rising/pseuds/summer_rising">summer_rising</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by Quackity's stream where Wilbur impulsively declared war on a single man for the 16th of Nov. I watched a lot of the 'water-rising video' and this idea came to me in the wee hours of 3am so I churned this out of the gutter. </p><p>I also listened to Fire by Barns Courtney like on repeat</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘Schlatt’s an alcoholic.’ </p><p>Everyone let out a derisive snort at that; Schlatt’s drinking problem wasn’t exactly new to them. Fundy’s whiskers twitched in a way that suggested he was smiling too but it was gone in the next moment. He was well aware that he was standing on hostile ground, reading his spy’s diary to his once-father, a bunch of people decked in armour and...well BBH who had popped up out of nowhere. Wilbur could tell from the anxious swish of his tail that he was nervous despite the bravado in his voice. </p><p>‘Schlatt has never been weaker,’ Fundy had said. ‘There’s no one left on his side.’ </p><p>When Fundy had first walked into Pogtopia, it was this that had piqued Wilbur’s interest. ‘Let him speak,’ he murmured when Quackity and Tommy threatened the fox with crossbows and axes. </p><p>Fundy had looked at him with something akin to gratitude then and it threw Wilbur for a brief moment; somewhere, in his addled brain he vaguely recalled Fundy smiling more often. Now he just looked grown and sombre, as did everyone on this forsaken land. Wilbur had to glance away and he tried very hard not to suddenly clutch at his head which had started to ache. When Fundy spoke again, the ache sharpened into a painful throb. </p><p>‘Schlatt cannot swim.’ </p><p>Wilbur blinked as Tommy and Quackity murmured amongst themselves. Surely that counted as obvious too; Schlatt had proven this when he chased them out of Manburg after Ninja’s visit and almost drowned himself crossing the river to get to them. To everyone else, it had just been one of the many things that Schlatt couldn’t do, like running for instance. He traversed the land at a leisurely stroll, seemingly unbothered like nothing in the world could threaten him. But Wilbur knew that Schlatt wasn’t untouchable, not just now when the odds were stacked against him but always. One of Schlatt’s greatest fears was water and Wilbur knew exactly the reason why. </p><p>Never in his life had he expected Schlatt to go anywhere near a body of water, let alone submerge himself but maybe it was because he had faith then that Quackity wouldn’t let him drown. Perhaps, despite all their disagreements and disputes, Quackity really had been his most trusted ally. Wilbur glanced at him now and made note of the malicious glint in his eyes as he listened to every one of Schlatt’s weaknesses laid bare by Fundy. He wondered if Quackity knew that he might have been one as well. </p><p>There had been a time long long ago when Schlatt had been his most trusted friend. Back when the world had been nothing but a few spots of land in a vast, ever-rising ocean and the two of them were just clueless boys trying to survive. Wilbur could hardly see that boy in Schlatt now. Something had happened to him between then and now; when the waves separated them and both thought the other was dead. Wilbur thought that all of this was an act of revenge against him, that he was bitter simply because when Wilbur had managed to make a life for himself after the floods, Schlatt had been left alone, cursed with a mutation that gave him the horns of a ram and almost split his skull in two. </p><p>But Wilbur couldn’t forgive him. Who was to blame for the incessant voices in his head? They told him at every waking moment to take down Schlatt and cause as much destruction as possible and then, only then, would things go back to normal. He’d have nothing to fear anymore; he could rebuild his nation the way he was always meant to and perhaps then he’d even have the capacity to excuse the crimes of those who had misled him. They could all live and be happy. </p><p>‘The time is now, Wilbur.’’ Fundy said to him and Wilbur found himself nodding, his mouth set in a grim line of resolve. </p><p>‘Let’s take that fucker down.’ </p><p>----</p><p>On the day of their invasion, Tommy had given Wilbur as many potions as he could carry. ‘Don’t go dying on me,’ Tommy said through gritted teeth. ‘We’ve come too bloody far to deal with that.’</p><p>Wilbur could barely hear him over the roaring in his ears. His heartbeat pressed painfully against his chest plate and his breath came in short puffs of air. </p><p>The plan was simple enough. If Fundy had been telling the truth then they had the true advantage here; the majority of Manburg’s citizens were on their side so it was the world against Dream and him against Schlatt. He had managed to convince a very reluctant Tommy to leave Schlatt to him; whether the impulsive kid stuck to his promise or not was out of his hands but Wilbur wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. </p><p>That tyrant was the root and cause of all his problems. He was the reason that Wilbur struggled to sleep and today would be the day that Wilbur put an end to it all. </p><p>‘We’ll buy you time,’ Tommy said as he adjusted his helmet. ‘Stay safe out there and don’t do anything stupid.’</p><p>‘Of course,’ Wilbur replied. ‘You stay safe too.’ </p><p>That was the last he saw of Tommy for the rest of the fight. His right-hand man gave him a final look assurance that was surely wasted and charged off to join the ranks that would inevitably bring about the downfall of Manburg. Wilbur wondered for a moment how things had become so messed up. When did he fall so low to the point where he had to be looked after by someone who had once looked up to him as a leader? When had this madness crept about and taken root so deep in his mind? Was it Eret? Was it Schlatt? Or Fundy?</p><p>He began to walk slowly, the way that Schlatt usually walked. He took in the sights of the nation at a leisurely stroll. Someone had started a fire and it danced in the night sky like charged lightning. To the left of him, he could hear swords clash but he didn’t care about who was fighting who. </p><p>Wilbur screamed something that might have been Schlatt’s name and his voice carried across the burning land like ash on a breeze. He breathed in deeply again, letting the smoke singe his lungs and roared again. </p><p>‘SCHLATT!’</p><p>Feeling as though the absent Gods were giving him their blessing, Wilbur turned his head to look up and there, silhouetted by the silver shine of the moon, stood a dark shadow that cut a menacing figure out of the sky and stars. </p><p>It couldn’t have been anyone else; Wilbur recognised that arrogant posture even before he saw the curled horns. Schlatt was standing on the narrow rails of the minecart tracks, overlooking the burning nation like he was something mighty and not just a man. </p><p>Wilbur found himself moving with newfound vigour. The bone-deep exhaustion that had plagued him for months suddenly faded and he charged up the rails with terrifying speed. Wilbur grinned despite himself; he didn’t need potions or boosts here. He was half tempted in his mania to tear off his armour just to prove to the tyrant that when it came to a fair fight he would always be victorious. But Schlatt wasn’t fair; nothing about this life had treated Wilbur fairly and so the armour stayed on. </p><p>The wind buffeted him and Wilbur stumbled more than once but he was undaunted by the height. He only had eyes for one person and they were so so close.</p><p>‘Hello, loverboy.’</p><p>Wilbur bared his teeth in a mad imitation of a smile. ‘Hello, Schlatt.’</p><p>‘Look at the mess you’ve made,’ Schlatt said, tutting him. ‘You just can’t sit and take your losses when they’re given. It’s pathetic.’</p><p>‘I’m pathetic? You took everything I’ve ever worked for-’</p><p>‘Cry me a river, why dontcha? Everything was perfectly fine. You’re the one who set everything on fire!’</p><p>Schlatt, who was usually composed to a fault, looked furious now. The wind whipped his blood-red tie around his face and he looked unsteady on his feet like he’d be blown away at any given moment. Wilbur felt strangely alive. Schlatt had always been a calloused character, even during the floods; he loved to complain. They’d riff off of each other in a way that wasn’t too dissimilar from now but this time there was genuine heat behind their words. </p><p>Wilbur’s smile returned and, fueled by the destruction around them, it grew wider and wider until he was hunched in on himself choking on his laughter. Schlatt flinched back, clearly thrown off course by his reaction. </p><p>‘Holy shit,’ he said softly, more to himself than to Wilbur. ‘You’re insane. You’re fucking insane.’</p><p>Wilbur couldn’t stop laughing; the situation was just too funny. Here he was, hiding in a hole in the dirt, quivering with fear for months because he thought Schlatt was too powerful. He’d fallen into a state of paranoia and madness because he truly believed that the whole world was working against him, absent Gods and all and yet, here he was: Schlatt, the very force that had sent Wilbur spiralling into ruin. He was standing before him on level ground after a lifetime and Wilbur couldn’t stop laughing.</p><p>Because Schlatt had never been so mortal as he was now. </p><p>Wilbur surged forwards and grabbed Schlatt by his rumpled suit, forcing him back. Schlatt broke free of his reverie and struggled against his hold, trying to butt his horns into Wilbur’s face but Wilbur had been toughened by wars that he didn’t know of. </p><p>Wilbur was a warrior. Schlatt was just a man. </p><p>The two of them grappled with each other miles above the ground where the earth burned. Schlatt shoved Wilbur hard and used the distance to lower his head and ram his horns into his chest. Wilbur almost flew off the edge then but he grabbed onto Schlatt’s horns with an iron grip and wrestled him back further and further until Schlatt’s feet slipped on the edge and his eyes widened. </p><p>Wilbur relished that look. That very instance when Schlatt realised the only thing that was stopping him from plunging into the black sea was Wilbur, himself.  The voices in his head reached a crescendo as they sensed victory. </p><p>Let him go. Let him go. Let him go-</p><p>Schlatt’s hands grabbed onto Wilbur’s wrists in a last-ditch attempt to save himself. ‘Don’t,’ he said with a tremor in his voice that was swallowed up by the noise around them. ‘Don’t-’ </p><p>‘’Don’t’ what?’ Wilbur asked sweetly, his face was so close that he could feel their hair tangle together. ‘I can’t hear you.’</p><p>He could see Schlatt’s jaw clenching as he ground his teeth in fury. ‘Fuck you. Fuck you, Wilbur - don’t you dare let me fucking fall.’</p><p>Christ - couldn’t the voices shut up for just a second? This was a moment that Wilbur wanted to cherish for the rest of his life but all they were saying was a garbled mess. </p><p>Schlatt cannot swim. Let him go. Let him drown. He’s not the boy you knew. He’s not the boy.</p><p>Wilbur thinks he said something then but he couldn’t hear it. He just watched Schlatt’s pupils shrink as he wrenched himself free of his grasp. Schlatt’s hands reached for him and the look in his eyes was something so familiar - Wilbur felt a jolt in his chest as the world quietened. Suddenly he was reaching out too but it was too late. Schlatt fell over the edge and was gone. </p><p>Sure enough, the voices had finally gone silent but he was not. Wilbur howled in anguish and nothing in the world was quite as loud. What had he done? That last look that Schlatt had given him was one and the same, it echoed the parting they had during the floods when Wilbur thought for sure that he’d lost his only friend forever. </p><p>Someone was shaking his shoulder and calling his name. It was Tommy, drawn to the sound of Wilbur’s suffering cry under the assumption that he’d been fatally wounded. So imagine his surprise when he found his former leader unscathed and alone on the tracks, crying into the ocean like a dam had broken inside him. </p><p>‘Get a hold of yourself, man! What the hell happened?’ </p><p>‘He can’t swim!’ Wilbur gasped, leaning so far over the edge that Tommy had to drag him back. ‘Fuck - he can’t swim.’</p><p>Isn’t that the whole point? Tommy thought. Was Wilbur now more unhinged than before? What had tipped him off? </p><p>But Wilbur’s mind, for the first time in a long time, was clear as a bell. The ache of fatigue was replaced with the ache of grief and a deep sense of powerlessness. The sea was as dark as ever, Manburg had been scorched beyond recognition by fire and Wilbur’s heart spasmed feebly under his chest plate.</p><p>Why did he have to realise so late that Schlatt had been the boy all along?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27619931">swimming is a life skill, but drowning is a habit</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/highkeylowkeynervous/pseuds/highkeylowkeynervous">highkeylowkeynervous</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
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